A site for me to make my favorite TV Western end the way it should have. Enjoy my scribblings. =)
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Saturday, December 8, 2012

The Gift 2/11

Summary: It's been four long years of war and separation. But now the hostilities are over. But Kid's family is still flung to the far corners of the earth and he's feeling guilty he didn't go with them. Will the spirit of the Christmas season help him forget?

Chapter 2

Fort
Laramie, Wyoming Territory

“Sorry to see you two going so soon,”
Sam Cain, Territorial Marshal, said, pushing his hat back on his head to get a
better view as he watched Kid hand a still sleepy EmmyLu up to Lou, already
mounted on Lightning. “Sure y’all can’t
stay through Christmas? We’d love to
have you.”

“You know we can’t do that, Sam,” Lou
smiled down at him. “Barnett could never
hold the place together that long. We’re
pushing things as it is.”

Sam laughed knowingly. His old deputy had fit in well, and happily,
as their main, and only, ranch hand. But
he hadn’t made any great gains in competence since he’d worked for first Sam
and then later Teaspoon.

“We’ll miss you,” Emma said, hugging Kid
one last time before he mounted up too.

“We miss you, too, Emma,” Kid said
quietly as he pulled her tight against him.
“Stay safe, you hear?”

“I think that’s supposed to be my line,
young man,” Sam laughed, putting an arm around Emma’s waist as she stepped back
from Kid’s embrace.

“I know…. it’s just….” Kid paused and
stared off into the distance. “I know
this ain’t been the visit everyone’s been wantin’,” he continued, carefully not
looking at Lou, “but there’s too many folks missin’ right now. And I just can’t stand the thought of
anythin’ happenin’ ta those what are around, ya know?”

“They’ll be back, Kid,” Emma added. “Just as soon as they can. You know that?”

Kid nodded jerkily before turning to
mount his horse so they wouldn’t see the tears welling in his eyes. What if they couldn’t make it back? What if they’d died in that infernal war? Trying to shake off the fear that wouldn’t
quite leave him alone, he leaned down to take Noah from Sam. Cradling his son in his arms, he swore he’d
try to get back to being the Pa and husband his family needed him to be. He didn’t know how, but he’d find a way. He couldn’t desert them, too.

Nudging Katy into motion, he turned her
nose westward and began the journey home.
Lou followed behind him, a packhorse attached by leadlines to
Lightning. A chorus of goodbyes and
merry christmases followed them down the street and out of the fort.

Fort
Riley, Kansas

The young man with long, curly, light
brown hair that hung below his shoulders, rode his horse with a relaxed ease
that belied his tense watchfulness of the streets around him as he entered the
fort. He’d been told there might be work
for him here as a scout. He’d spent some
time in the regular army during the war, but it hadn’t been for him. All those rules and regulations had more than
chafed. So, he’d gone his own way,
spending much of the war working undercover south of the Mason Dixon line. Since the end of hostilities, he’d slowly
been working his way west again. He
might not care much for Kansas but it was more his home than Virginia or
Georgia would ever be.

Turning his palomino toward the first
saloon he came to, James Butler Hickok slid off its back and tied the animal’s head
to the hitching post.

Without a backward glance, he sauntered
toward the batwing doors through which light, heat and laughter floated out to
assault him. Pausing outside the
entrance, he pulled the collar of his coat straight up, as much against the
stares of passersby as a protection against the frigid, cutting prairie winds.

Putting one hand out in front of him, he
pushed his way through the doors and strolled smoothly up to the bar. He slammed that same hand down on the dark,
rich wood of the bar to get the barkeep’s attention.

“Got anythin’ ta warm a man on a cold
night?” he asked bruskly.

The barkeep pointed at a handwritten
sign perched against the mirror behind him.
“Chili’s a dollar a bowl.
Steak’s’re two. Or ya kin head
over ta Ma Turner’s place down tha street and take yer chances with her
slop. I wouldn’t recommend tryin’ the
army food.”

Jimmy laughed derisively at the
thought. “Had ‘nough of that durin’ the
war,” he muttered. Digging in his
pocket, he pulled out a couple wrinkled bills and placed them on the bar. “I’ll take a bowl of the chili and whiskey.”

“Comin’ right up.”

The food may not have been the best, but
it was hot and the whiskey burned. Good
enough for a cold December day on the prairie, Jimmy thought to himself. It’d been a long time since he’d had any
better.

Using the biscuit that came with the
chili to sop up the last bit of juice in the bottom of the bowl, Jimmy let his
mind wander back to those days when he’d been assured of a truly good meal
after a long, hard ride. The pay hadn’t
been the best in those days, but there’d been so much more to compensate.

He sighed. Better to just forget about it. Four years and a nasty war were too much to
overcome. There was no going back. Especially not after the way he and the Kid had
fought so bitterly at the end. Better to
let them have their happily ever after while he got on with his ever after.

A wild, raucous laugh from the other
corner of the saloon yanked the tired man out of his reverie. Looking up curiously, he wondered who it
was. There was something oddly familiar
about that sound. But all he could see
was a bevy of saloon girls clustered around a table, avidly watching whatever
was going on. Then one of them moved.

The face was older, the hair longer, the
beard and mustache new. But it was
him. His brother. The one who’d tried so hard over the years to
remind Jimmy of the fun in life. But
he’d been wrong, Jimmy thought. There
was no fun. Just survival. He sighed and began to turn his back on his
past, physically as he had symbolically so often. But just as he moved, the man looked up from
his cards and met his eyes.

“Hickok?!” he gasped so loudly Jimmy
could hear him all the way across the noisy saloon. Cody’d never been one for discretion, that
was for sure. “Jimmy Hickok, is that
you?”

“Damn it!” Jimmy muttered, slamming his
whiskey glass down on the bar and pushing away from it, heading toward the
saloon door. But he wasn’t fast enough.

Cody jumped out of his seat, throwing
his cards down on the table. “I’m out,”
he said absently, his eyes glued to his brother’s disappearing back. Hustling out into the cold Kansas night, he
hurried to catch up. Slapping a hand on
the other man’s shoulder he swung him around to get a good look.

“It is you!” he exclaimed, pulling Jimmy
into a fierce hug. “By God it’s good to
see you again. Ain’t none of us would’ve
even know if you was dead or alive if it hadn’t been for that duel with Tuttle
you got into over in Missourah. What are
you doin’ here?”

“Lookin’ fer work,” Jimmy shrugged,
pulling away from Cody and turning to check the stirrups of his saddle. Anything not to meet the other man’s
eyes. “Heard the 7th Cavalry
needed scouts.”

“Sure do,” Cody nodded, smiling. “Especially since I quit this morning. But you can’t join up yet. Wait ‘til after the holidays.”

“’Cause ain’t none of us seen you in
four years,” Cody said, the smile slipping from his face as he reached into the
pocket of his coat to pull out a handful of letters. “And Emma and Lou’ve both been after me for months
now ta come home and visit. They’d’ve
written you, too, if they’d known how to find you. And I ain’t standin’ for the hidin’ they’ll both give me if I show up
without you, now that I’ve found you!”

“Leave it alone, Cody,” Jimmy
growled. “You ain’t changed a bit have
you? Always stickin’ yer nose in. They don’t want ta see me. Don’t need ta see me. Not after all this time. After the way I left.”

“Rosemary? Is that what this’s about?” Cody
guessed. “You oughta know they ain’t
still holdin’ a grudge over that biddy.
You dropped her fast enough once you got ta seein’ what she was really
like.”

“But… Noah….”

“We all know damned well he’d’a found
some way ta get himself killed in that war,” Cody spat. “Wasn’t he the one introduced himself to ya
as ‘born ta hang’? No, they ain’t
holdin’ no grudges.”

“Then there’s the Kid….” Jimmy tried one
last protest, pulling his coat tighter around him, whether to protect himself
from the winter wind or from his own conscience even he couldn’t say.

“Jimmy, give it up,” Cody demanded,
almost angrily. “Why do you think Emma
and Lou have been so persistent? He’s
feelin’ all sorts of guilt fer lettin’ us go off ta war without him, even if it
wasn’t his side. You gotta know he
turned his back on the fightin’ fer our sakes, much as Lou’s. Now, he’s wonderin’ if we’re even alive. And you know how Kid gets when he’s feelin’
guilty. Good Lord, man, he’s even worse
than you are!”

Looking into his brother’s eyes, Jimmy
could almost feel the promised welcome home.

“You sure?” he asked, hating the note
of uncertainty in his voice.

“I’m damned sure,” Cody said, smiling
and slapping Jimmy on the back. “Now,
let’s get back inside where it’s warm.
We’ll play some cards. I’ll beat
ya like I always did. Enjoy the pretty
ladies and then hit the road for home in the morning.”

Turning back toward the saloon, Cody
practically dragged his reluctant brother after him. He didn’t know what Jimmy’d been through the
last few years, but could tell it had been hard on him, perhaps harder than the
rest of them. Well, he was going to
enjoy this Christmas season whether he wanted to or not, Cody thought to
himself with a grin.

The Author

Who am I? A Hispanic broadcast journalist, current host of Kansas Week on KPTS, and certified high school teacher, a writer and lifelong lover of all things historical, particularly the Old West. I'm married to a wonderful man from Germany and we have a 17 yr old son. We have two rescued cats and a rescued pooch, who thinks she's a 70 lb lapdog. I'm prone to talk about anything and everything that catches my interest.